The Kindness of a Grandfather

"Just because someone's dead doesn't mean it's over.  My grandfather died more than 25 years ago, but I still think of him a lot and smell his smell."
~ Julian Clary

My grandfather would have been 94 today, but he died more than 30 years ago.  Still, the day to me is always special, always reminds me of him.  December 22nd was an early Christmas of sorts.  While I was in college, it was always the day by which I had to be home -- had to because I wanted to.  My grandfather was a special person, the father figure in our daily lives.  A family physician, he still made house calls and we accompanied him to the hospital on Sundays when he went to make rounds.  He was smart, well-read and funny.  Once on his birthday -- and to my mother's horror, he let us stick our fingers in his cake.  And he was always there for us, the first to arrive for Visiting Sunday at sleep-away camp, the one who took us to the dentist and who picked us up when we ran out of gas, and the one to send us whatever we needed while we were in college.  So many kindnesses, many specific ones and others simply part of the fabric of who I am.